Happy Mother’s Day
Saturday version.
Wind was howlin’ a few hours ago and I was worried, as I always am on Mother’s Day Weekend.
The trees in my backyard tend to shed their limbs on this weekend EVERY SINGLE YEAR. Not exaggerating. It’s been going on for at least 8 years now. Sometimes the branches are relatively small and scatter across the grass. Sometimes they can be medium and fall on the neighbors garage or across her driveway onto her house. OR, they can be Large–like half a tree—and drop the entire length of my backyard taking the electric, phone and cable lines with them, as pictured above.
My “garden” is now a Zen Stick Retreat, where I go every summer to saw big branches into smaller pieces until they fit into the yard-waste bin and/or fire pit until they are all gone. The chance of new limbs falling is equally proportionate to the amount of sticks already on the pile. The greater the sticks already on the ground, the smaller the new ones will be. So I try to get rid of them s.l.o.w.l.y…
Eventually my three big trees will be three big trunks and I won’t have to worry anymore. Except for maybe lightening….take them down right at ground level. But that hardly ever happens…haha (nervous chuckle) Right?
Breakfast with the BF Mom is over and dinner is up next with my Mom. We are enjoying palate-cleansing Peanut M&M’s until my sister and mother arrive for the drive to the restaurant. The wind has died down and it’s still now…but there’s one more day to go.
I’ll update tomorrow and let you know if the tree-trend continues… Gaze upon the picture below of my stick pile. Feel the tranquility and enjoy the rest of your evening.
Running Mild on an equally gorgeous day in Illinois
It’s Friday. If you read my post from Thursday, you’ll remember that I was running wild yesterday. Today, not so much. My playlist:
is awesome. But not enough. The forces of feminine nature are working against me today, and there is no remedy beyond time.
I was stiff and tired and felt heavy and broke down. I trudged along though because of the shining beacon of waxy hope I set up for myself and you, faithful readers: the quest for the crayons!
I started to lose faith somewhere between the 1¾ and 2 mile mark, when suddenly…there it was! The first crayon. A Red one! Non-crayola.
Was I crazy? Was I delusional in the heat yesterday? One stinking red crayon?!? I swear there were 8 or 10 or 12!!
Two miles in, I rationalized that the storm had driven them off the trail and into the side grass and weeds and that was it. Gone forever.
And then, looking like a sign from a bright sun god: Orange and Yellow!
A little further: Blue and Blue and Green. Then Brown all alone. Right in the middle of the path.
Then nothing for a little while. I figured that was it because I couldn’t remember how far along I had seen these crayons.
Just before 2½ miles, I saw one come into my vision. White! (Can’t see the word in the actual color–sorry!) I don’t even remember seeing that one at all.
But, no black. I know I saw it. because I was thinking of the 8-box of Crayola’s and it was the only one missing. (Purple too, but that was obliterated; crushed to waxy shards on the cement, so, sadly, I left it there to die in the sun.)
Oh well. Let’s just finish this damn run so I can go home. I feel like a thousand pounds running in a tornado uphill carrying a backpack full of lead…you know, amusing myself with descriptions of my struggle to survive the wilderness and all that…
I can see the 3½ mark just up ahead. Get ready to kick it up and sprint that last tenth of a mile…here I go…STOP!
There it is!! The Black crayon! It’s only half but who cares?? I was so happy I stopped and picked it up and looked around and probably looked crazy. Crazy girl carrying a plastic sandwich bag filled with broken crayon pieces. I guess I need a hobby, but I’m telling you I felt good and happy, and I got out and exercised so it wasn’t all bad.
Thus concludes my colorful story. You never read such a gripping tale of lost dreams, vanquished hopes, joyful discoveries and ultimate gratification, in life and love and all its mysteries. Inspirational AND inspiring; via the humblest of all school supplies.
And you thought your kids crayons were just for coloring. Picture is below.
just shy of pretty 